


The Things I Do For Love

by midnightraptor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightraptor/pseuds/midnightraptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That is not a puppy; that is a rat.” In which Brienne is a dog person and Jaime definitely is not. Updated with Part 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I had so much fun with my first J/B fic that I couldn’t stay away. Originally, I imagined this completely differently based on some gifs and videos I saw of Nikolaj with dogs but the more I thought about it, the more I thought it’d be funnier (and way cuter) if Jaime wasn’t a dog person but Brienne was. Et voila! Beware, here there be domestic J/B. And you can blame the beginning entirely on Peter Quill and Guardians of the Galaxy. Not quite up to 100% of my usual but hope you enjoy the mindless fluff nonetheless!

_Hey, hey, what's the matter with your feel right?_

_Don't you feel right, baby?_

_Hey, oh, yeah, get it from the main vine, alright_

_I said-a find it, find it, darling_

_Love it if you like it, yeah_

_Hey, hey, it's your business if you want some_

_Take some, get it together, baby_

Singing softly along under his breath, Jaime Lannister bustled about his kitchen, stirring and tasting the contents of various pots and pans as Pat Vegas’ voice filtered through the portable speaker dock on the counter and filled the room. It was one of his few well-kept secrets, his singing, something only done with the assurance that he was completely alone and sequestered in some non-echoing room. Brienne had caught him once early on in their relationship, sneaking up behind him one morning as he made them breakfast and catching him in the middle of a sleepy rendition of “Billie Jean.” He had flushed a deep crimson that would’ve rivaled her own familiar blush as she giggled at the sight of him but ended up securing a stalemate of sorts after threatening to reveal the very un-ladylike sounds she was keen on making while his head was nestled between her thighs. So far, it seemed to have worked in his favor and he thanked the Seven every day for that.

For the moment, though, Brienne wasn’t home and wouldn’t be for some time so he ticked up the volume on his phone a bit higher and continued crooning the words of “Come and Get Your Love” as he prepared their meal for the evening.

Wiping his hands on the dish towel thrown over his shoulder, he stepped back from the state-of-the-art stainless steel stove and took a second to survey his work. Garlic and cilantro lime rice simmering quietly in the corner, salmon steaks marinated and ready for the oven, its herb butter sauce reducing nearby, and tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, and red onions washed, sliced, and waiting to be tossed in a light vinaigrette. He nodded satisfactorily, assured that things would be ready in time, then set to work on the salmon.

His culinary skills still surprised some people who couldn’t seem to reconcile the devilishly handsome but brash ER doctor with the gourmet lunches he could be found chowing down on during breaks and in all honesty, he still found his conflicting personas a bit amusing at times. But when you were a poor med student whose Westeros 100 family had effectively cut you off the moment you announced your aspirations to be a physician rather than go into the family business and your only options were either ordering out every meal and becoming a diabetic with hypertension and heart disease by age 35 or learning to cook, you damn well better learn how to cook. So he did. Cooking always seemed to put him in a good mood and coupled with the upbeat Redbone classic currently filling the kitchen, well, you couldn’t have a better day.

He’d just placed the salmon in the oven and was turning down the heat on the sauce when the sound of the front door opening and closing cut through the music, effectively silencing him from finishing the rest of the song. Curious, he glanced at his watch, rather surprised that she had arrived ahead of schedule. Brienne was a nurse at a community clinic across town and generally arrived about an hour after he came home from his shift at the hospital, resulting in him usually assuming responsibility of their dinners, a routine that was for the best, seeing as how his girlfriend of nearly two years could barely scramble an egg without setting off the smoke alarm (“Honestly, woman, it isn’t rocket science.”). Admittedly, she’d gotten better since they met, no thanks to him, but meals prepared by her were always a rather trying affair for him.

“Brienne?” he called while turning down the volume of his music to hear her. “You’re home early.”

His only reply was the jingling of keys being placed in the metal bowl they kept by the front door and the soft thumping of shoes coming off and hitting the floor.

“You’re never gonna guess who the newest member of Stannis’ crew is,” he continued, referring to one of the EMT teams that frequented his ER. Before leaving to work at the clinic almost a year ago, Brienne had been working in that same ER herself and was very familiar with the faces he still saw on a daily basis. He smirked, remembering his encounter with the EMT in question earlier that day, and turned to face her when he sensed her entering the kitchen. “Starts with an H and rhymes with ‘Cun-‘“

But the word died in his throat as his gaze fell on the small furry lump cradled in her arms. _Oh, no_. “What in the seven hells is _that_?”

Brienne beamed at him from the entryway, clearly not hearing the hard, bewildered edge in his voice. “Isn’t he adorable? I think he’s a Yorkie mix.”

There was a beat of silence and he simply stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head. “And what is it doing in my apartment?”

She finally registered his tone and threw him a sharp look. “First of all, it’s our apartment. And second, someone left him in a box in the alley next to the clinic. I heard him whining through the window, poor thing. I couldn’t just leave him.”

The ball of fur stirred just then and a tiny black and brown head with floppy ears poked its nose into the crook of Brienne’s elbow, eliciting another joyful smile from her.

“No, but you could have brought him to a shelter.”

“Oh, come on, Jaime,” she huffed, tearing her eyes away from the dog to glare at him and clutching it closer to her chest as if to protect it from Jaime’s obvious disproval. “Do you know how many mutts get put down at shelters each year? It’s horrifying.”

“You know what else horrifying? Fleas, rabies, ringworm, unidentified stains embedded on our hardwood floors.” He ticked each off on his fingers as he listed them, internally cringing at the thought. He knew Brienne had grown up with animals, raising horses and chickens on the family ranch back on Tarth, and was therefore, more than comfortable with all things furry, feathery, and hairy. He, on the other hand, had known no such thing, his cold, overbearing father never wavering on his views that animals were filthy creatures that had no place in the home, an opinion Jaime now carried with him to some extent whether he liked it or not. But it wasn’t that he hated animals. It was that he simply didn’t want to own one.

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just being dramatic. Dogs can be perfectly healthy if you care for them properly.”

“Brienne, just…” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Whatever good mood he had been in just moments before, alone with his kitchen and Redbone, had abandoned him in a hurry. “How are we supposed to care for a dog? We’re at work nearly 10 hours a day.”

At this, her resolve finally seemed to falter somewhat and she chewed her bottom lip while formulating her response. “I have the next three days off so I can get him settled in. And we’ll get a big pen so he doesn’t tear through the house when we’re not here until we get him housetrained.” She then took a step towards him and shifted the dog in her arms so that its small, square face was within inches of his. “Plus, look at him! How can you say no to that sad puppy face?”

He stared dubiously at the little creature sniffing inquisitively at him. “That is not a puppy; that is a rat.”

“Jaime!” She shot him a dirty look and covered the mutt’s ears with her hand, practically engulfing its entire head in her palm. He then watched with barely concealed distaste as she ducked her head and began cooing softly at the dog, murmuring sweet words of reassurance as if it were a small child rather than an animal.

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Oh, Gods,” he groaned.

After a moment, she straightened, tucking the small ball of fur even further into the crook of her arm and setting her jaw. “Please, Jaime,” Her voice was calm and measured and although her words said otherwise, he knew she was not begging. “He deserves better than a shelter.”

They stood there, two boxers in the ring, him with his arms folded firmly across his chest, her protectively cradling her tiny charge in a football hold. It had always been like this, their relationship, all butting heads and waiting to see who would back down first. In fact, their very first encounter had been a shouting match out in the ambulance bay as they waited for an incoming trauma. It had only been his fifth day on the job, new to the city as well as the hospital, and as a four year veteran of the department, Brienne was absolutely having none of his physician peacocking bullshit in her ER. They had glared daggers at each other for a moment before he broke into a wide grin and commented that no one had ever stood up to him like that before to which she simply snorted and told him that he better get used to it. Five months later, she finally agreed to go out with him (if only to stop him from asking her every chance he got, or so she says), barely making it through their three-course meal at the pretentious restaurant they both hated before finding themselves frantically clawing each other’s clothes off back at his place. They re-did that disastrous first date the following night (when they finally dragged themselves out of bed), found some dimly lit hole-in-the-wall with great beer and cheap food that was more their style, and the rest had been history after that.

He looked at her now, all fierce determination and unwavering challenge shinning in her bright blue eyes. He loved that most about her, fell in love with that first about her, not just her eyes but the sheer strength of her spirit and the depth of her heart. She didn’t let just anyone into her life but when she loved, she loved and when she fought, she fought with everything she had, everything she was, and everything she could give and despite his better judgment, he knew he had lost this battle before it had even begun. _The things I do for love._

“He is not stepping foot on the couch,” he said slowly, deliberately so that there was to be no mistaking exactly how this was going to happen. “I will not be cleaning fur, excrement, or any sort of bodily fluids. And he does not eat from table.”

She was smiling before he even finished articulating his terms. “Thank you,” Stepping forward, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him soundly, the act almost dissolving the grudge he was determined to hold against the tiny creature. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Only because I love you,” he grumbled sourly as she spun away and headed for the living room, practically skipping with excitement.

He watched her disappear further into their apartment then listened to the gleeful sound of her voice introducing their furry little ward to its new home, frowning after the two of them.

“And he’s not sleeping in the bedroom!”


	2. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is a proper grump. And fluff. Just plain fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 here! This was a lot harder to write than I anticipated but here you have it. Enjoy!

As it turned out, accepting responsibility of a dog seemed to require far more than simply buying dog food and letting it out several times a day to relieve itself as he quickly found out the very next day when he came home from work to a living room full of dog supplies. True to her word, Brienne had gone out on her day off and apparently raided the local pet store, for in addition to the promised pen that was now taking up a good portion of their living room, there was also a plush dog bed, crate, dog bowls, litter box, a large bag of dog food, and a small plastic tub filled with various toys. He had taken a second to stare disbelievingly at the sight in front of him before letting out a defeated sigh even as Brienne kissed him hello with a sheepish grin.

The day after saw to the as-of-then nameless pup finally presented with a handsome black collar complete with an engraved silver tag announcing his name as “Finnley.” (He had jokingly suggested “Chewie” because of the resemblance to the hairy, humanoid alien but Brienne was having none of it, had swatted him on the head with the book she was reading, completely unamused). To placate him, however, she had made a visit to a vet while he was at work who cleared Finn with a clean bill of health and guesstimated that he was around four months old.

Brienne’s third day off was also his first of the week and had them driving across town for brunch with two friends. Ellaria had barely laid eyes on little Finn, who Brienne had insisted they bring along, before letting out a rather high-pitched gasp and immediately began stroking his soft, silky fur. Jaime only shook his head and shrugged helplessly at Oberyn as both women fawned over the puppy as if he was the last good thing on this earth. To his credit, the other man looked rather amused at the whole scene unfolding before him and even allowed Finn to gnaw playfully on his finger, leaving Jaime alone with his quiet disgruntlement.

Housetraining Finn turned out to be far more complex than he was anticipating. Having no animal-caring experience, he had been under the impression that all they had to do was set the litter box in front of the pup and Finn would instinctively know what to do. Brienne had looked at him like he’d gone simple when he mentioned this before outlining exactly what housetraining a puppy actually entailed. He quickly found out that unless he wanted to live in an apartment that smelled of dog unmentionables, he was going to have to break his second condition for keeping Finn at least whenever Brienne wasn’t home. They stuck to a strict schedule as Brienne instructed and when he found himself home alone with the furry little ball of energy, he completed his duties with all the joy and enthusiasm one might show a root canal. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on if you were asking him or Brienne), they couldn’t possibly be home with Finn at all hours of the day which led to Brienne knocking on the door of their quiet and painfully shy neighbor and enlisting his help when they were away at work. Pod had moved into the apartment across the hall shortly after they did nearly a year ago, and they’d quickly taken a liking to the bookish web designer who worked from home and owned a rescue mutt himself, often inviting him over for dinner or to catch a football match a few times a month. And so for a bit of extra cash a day (Pod had bashfully refused the payment but Brienne insisted), he would let himself into their apartment every couple hours, set out Finn’s food, and make sure he was getting on with his litter box. It was slow going but with time, Finn was beginning to understand the purpose of the tub of newspaper much to Jaime’s infinite relief.

Eventually, they settled into a routine, one that had him reluctantly pulling his weight whenever he was needed and constantly reminding himself how much he loved Brienne. To Finn’s credit, though, the whole experience was far less excruciating than Jaime had originally envisioned it to be. The pup was a good dog, even he had to admit that, charming, incredibly obedient, and alarmingly intuitive. But for all of Jaime’s poop-scooping and fur-sweeping, Finn was still Brienne’s dog, not his, and he was determined to maintain that distinction.

* * *

 A little over a month after bringing Finn into their home found Jaime walking into the lobby of their apartment building after a particularly trying day at work, desperately needing a scotch and about 24 hours of uninterrupted sleep. He was standing in the elevator, too exhausted to even attempt the three flights of stairs to the apartment, when his phone rang.

“Hey, it’s me,” came Brienne’s slightly breathless voice when he answered. “Listen, I’m probably gonna be a few hours late.”

He frowned. “Everything okay?”

“There’s been an emergency and we’re short staffed tonight,” She paused and he could hear several rushed voices in the background. “I know you hate this but could you please take Finn out for his walk and play with him for a while to settle him down for the night?”

 _Seven hells_. “You’re so lucky the sex is fantastic, Tarth.”

She spluttered a cough, her blush practically audible over the phone, eliciting a small smirk from him. He never got tired of getting a rise out of her. “Ahem, anyway, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

The line clicked dead before he even had a chance to reply and he stepped off the elevator with a resigned sigh. In the weeks since Finn, he had never had to take responsibility of their evening routine since Brienne had always been home but it seemed that he now had no choice.

Letting himself into their apartment, he was immediately greeted by several high-pitched barks from the living room and the sound of rattling metal. As expected, he found Finn standing on his hind legs, having propped his front paws on the pen walls, tail whipping furiously back and forth as he pressed his nose as far as he could through the metal bars, determined to reach Jaime.

“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” he said as he opened the gate to let the pup out.

Finn wasted no time and immediately sprang up to press his front paws against Jaime’s legs, jumping again and again, his silver tags jingling with every spring, until Jaime reached down and hazarded a quick scratch behind his ears. He still hadn’t completely warmed up to the pup and both he and Finn seemed to come to an unspoken understanding that a pat on the head and a quick belly rub was the furthest their relationship would get, though that didn’t prevent Finn from pushing the boundaries every chance he got.

Finn’s dinner bowl provided enough distraction for Jaime to pour himself a double scotch and get himself some dinner. Exhausted as he was, he simply reheated some leftovers from the day before and plopped himself down on the couch, watching as Finn pushed his bowl around on the floor trying to get the last of his food and snorting into his scotch when Finn managed to upend the empty bowl over his head. _Ridiculous dog_.

The evening walk was a new addition to their nights, having just introduced Finn to the leash two weeks previously for a few days of whining whenever it was attached, but the pup quickly learned that the leash meant going outside and a chance to roll around in the springy grass of the park down the street which soon became a favorite activity of his. Jaime had scarcely unhooked the leash from its peg before Finn began circling his legs with barely controlled excitement.

They set a brisk pace down the street, catching the tail end of the dinnertime pedestrian traffic, Jaime keeping Finn a bit closer than usual lest he get trampled by the people alongside them. Usually, Brienne kept the leash, Finn bounding eagerly ahead of them, while Jaime followed along holding Brienne’s hand lightly in his own. Tonight, however, had him on leash duty and he accepted it with long-suffering reluctance, feeling completely ridiculous as his towering 6’2” frame trailed behind the barely five pound puppy.

The park was relatively quiet and Jaime unclipped the leash to let Finn run around a bit on the grass, chasing after the rambunctious pup whenever he got too far. As fearless as Finn was (Jaime had seen him bark after full-grown dogs with reckless abandon), he seemed to finally meet his match when he encountered another furry little creature at the foot of a tree.

“It’s just a squirrel, boy. It’s alright,” Jaime said with a laugh as Finn stood frozen staring at the animal, his tiny pointed ears raised in alarm.

By the time they got back home 45 minutes later, the sun had finally set and Finn seemed to have a little less spring in his step, having run out much of his energy. Truthfully, Jaime was reaching the end of his own reserves as well and was more than ready to call it a night, knowing he was going to have to drag himself up early in the morning. So after a quick shower and one last fetch session on the living room floor that had him fighting a smile at the proud way Finn would plop the ball back into his lap, Jaime packed the pup up in his pen and headed off to bed.

He had scarcely settled himself under the covers, having sent off a quick text to Brienne saying all was well with Finn and a few other choice things that were sure to get the color rising in her cheeks, when a high-pitched whine began filtering through the closed bedroom door. At first, he ignored it, thinking Finn would eventually tire of pining for attention and fall asleep, and simply buried his head further into his pillow to smother the noise. But the crying continued, this screechy, pitiful whimper that echoed through the otherwise silent apartment, and Jaime knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight until it stopped.

“Seven help me,” he grumbled as he threw back the covers and hauled himself out of bed.

Out in the living room, Finn was nosing forlornly at his bed but immediately perked up upon noticing Jaime.

He stood over the pen and stared down at the tiny pup. “You’re gonna whine all night for her, aren’t you?” It had always been Brienne who put Finn to bed since she brought him home which hadn’t led to any problems with getting the pup to sleep through the night, and Jaime strongly suspected that the cause of Finn’s anxiety tonight was the lack of Brienne’s fussing at bedtime.

Finn yipped dejectedly at him, pawing at the metal bars.

Jaime sighed. His options were fairly limited and while Brienne had told him that leaving Finn to whine himself out was the best way to handle this part of his training, waiting til that happened wasn’t a luxury he had at the moment. So he pushed aside whatever reservations he still had about the pup, silencing the tiny part of his brain that told him that maybe this wasn’t just about getting some sleep and that maybe those sad black eyes were just a little too sad for him to resist, and made up his mind.

“If we lay on the couch, will you promise not to walk around on it?”

His reply was another short bark and an inquisitive head tilt which Jaime took as an agreement of sorts so he scooped up the sad little creature and carried him over to the forbidden couch.

Lying back across the cushions so that his head was propped up by the low armrest, Jaime held Finn to his chest and marveled at just how warm and soft he was, a tiny bundle of fur resting lightly against him. The pup squirmed for a moment, little paws digging into his chest, then sat upright and stared down at him with a funny look seemed to suggest he was about the sneeze all over Jaime’s face.

“Don’t even dream of it,” he warned sternly.

But the pup simply blinked at him and, instead of covering Jaime with a spray of dog spittle, opened his mouth in a wide, sleepy yawn before laying his head back down on Jaime’s chest.

Jaime chuckled softly, ruffling the fur on Finn’s head. He said nothing for a moment, just ran his hand down Finn’s back in slow, rhythmic strokes and let himself relax into the cushions.

“Guess you aren’t too bad after all,” he admitted with quiet reluctance. “Just don’t get used to this, okay, boy? I’m too old to sleep on the couch every night.”

Finn just snuffled in response, tucked his nose into Jaime’s neck, and darted his cold, wet tongue out to lick the underside of his chin, effectively melting the last icy wall around Jaime’s heart. He lay there, Finn’s breath evening out against his skin in short puffs, the steady rise and fall of his own chest slowing and deepening, wondering how on earth he ended up on his couch cradling a sleeping puppy when he had sworn just four weeks earlier that he’d never be caught dead doing this. But as his eyes started to drift close, finally succumbing to the stresses of the day, his last conscious thought was that where he was right now actually wasn’t a bad place to be.

* * *

16 hours after leaving for work that morning, Brienne walked up to her and Jaime’s apartment door, thoroughly feeling every single one of those hours in every cell of her body. Her feet ached, her shoulders felt as if a knife had been stuck between them, a dull throbbing had taken up residence behind her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to curl into Jaime’s side and sleep for an indeterminate amount of time.

It was dark in the foyer as she slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the sudden change in order to bring the room into focus. Mindful of the fact that Jaime and Finn were probably already asleep given the hour, she toed off her shoes and set down her keys as quietly as she could before heading for the bedroom. But as she passed the living room on the way, a strangely shaped lump on the couch caught her eye, pulling her closer to investigate, and what she stumbled upon was quite possibly the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Jaime, mouth hanging slightly open, sprawled out on the couch with Finn curled into a tight ball safely ensconced in the circle of his arms, both clearly fast asleep.

She brought a hand to her mouth, unable to stop the wide grin pulling at her lips. Whatever she had been expecting when she’d gotten Jaime’s text earlier assuring her that everything was fine, it certainly wasn’t this. In the weeks since Finn had arrived, Jaime had taken great care to make it clear that he was still none too thrilled at the prospect of owning a dog and the best way she could describe his relationship with the puppy was one of carefully maintained tolerance. Until now.

Not wanting to let this moment go undocumented, she pulled out her phone to snap a quick picture of her boyfriend and puppy cuddling, her smile threatening to split her face. She then picked up a large woven throw from the nearby chaise and unfolded it over the two sleeping lumps, taking care not to jostle either.

But her movements still must’ve pulled Jaime from his slumber, a light sleeper himself, who stirred and slowly blinked his eyes open.

“Hey.” His voice was thick with sleep, the low, raspy timbre sending a shiver down her spine.

“Hey.” She knelt by his side and gave him a quick kiss, his two day stubble scratching her lips.

“Everything alright at work?” he asked when they parted.

“Yea, we sorted it out.”

He murmured something that sounded like “Good,” eyes already closing.

She said nothing for a moment and just watched him, the lines that were growing more numerous on his face (and that she loved teasing him for) fading as he dozed peacefully in front of her, looking incredibly boyish and nothing like his 38 years. Even after two years, she still could hardly believe that she could call this beautiful man hers, that he had chosen her, pursued her of all people with that single-minded determination that she found both maddeningly irritating and frustratingly endearing all at the same time. “Thank you for keeping him company,” she finally said, gently sweeping aside the hair that fell across his forehead.

“Yeah, well,” Jaime cracked open an eye to glance down at Finn who was miraculously still asleep. “It was either this or listen to him whine for you all night. You coddle him too much.”

She made a face. “He’s a puppy. He’s made for coddling.”

But he just hummed noncommittally, earning himself a slight eye roll from her.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” she urged a second later.

He looked at her then, an almost apologetic gleam in his eyes. “I don’t want to wake him. I only just got him settled down.” Carefully lifting a hand from Finn’s back, he patted the space next to him. “But we have some room to share.”

Briefly, she considered saying something back about who was doing the coddling now but held her tongue, bit her lip instead to hide her knowing smile. “Let me just take a quick shower.”

She disappeared into their bedroom then emerged 15 minutes later feeling infinitely more like a human being than she had in at least the past 10 hours. Jaime had dozed off again but roused when she gently nudged his leg trying to maneuver herself around him without disturbing Finn. It took a bit of creative wiggling but she managed to successfully tuck herself between Jaime and the back cushions with still some room to spare, a feat she owed entirely to the extra-large couch Jaime had insisted on buying when they first moved in for reasons that had her turning about 50 shades of red in the furniture store while he grinned lasciviously. Curling into Jaime’s side, she laid her head on his shoulder, threw a leg over his own, and wrapped an arm around his waist, needing every point of contact he could give her. If he was at all bothered by her hair dampening his shirt, he didn’t let it show, instead simply draping his arm around her shoulders to pull her even closer. She took a few moments to just lie there, breathing in the spicy clean scent that was so distinctly Jaime and the slightly grassy smell of Finn’s fur, feeling Jaime’s chest rise and fall beneath her cheek, listening to the sound of his breath and the quiet little snorts Finn occasionally made.

Finally, she couldn’t help herself. “So, does this mean he’s officially your dog too now?”

“If I say ‘no’, will you get me off poop duty?”

She pinched his side for that, playfully but enough to make him flinch.

“Well, someone has to keep you from coddling our little guy to pieces,” he replied after a moment.

The change in pronouns was not lost on her despite the lighthearted dig and she felt a burst of affection warming her chest. “And the chances of us getting Finn a little brother or sister to play with are…?”

“Don’t push your luck, Tarth,” he murmured into her hair but couldn’t quite keep the slight laughter out of his voice.

She smiled against his shirt, finally lapsing into a sleepy silence as Jaime lazily trailed his fingers up her arm. For all his moaning and groaning, she always knew he’d eventually come around, his stubborn, acerbic exterior hiding nothing but a heart of gold, and if this was what his burgeoning change of heart looked like, she figured she’d done a damn good job.

She only hoped that Finn would hold off peeing on Jaime’s shirt until after she brought him his coffee the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing about puppies is hard when I’ve never actually had a puppy. Or a dog for that matter. But I hope the puppy fluff came across well enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame all of this on far too many episodes watched of Too Cute! on Animal Planet and this little article in which Nik talks about getting his Yorkiepoo against his better judgment. Oh, and those gifs of Nikolaj playing with what I’m assuming is his Yorkiepoo. Watch them. You will melt. Part 2 will be up in a few days with even more puppy cuteness. And you'll find out the little guy's name. :)


End file.
